


Staycation

by fuzipenguin



Series: Traveling Through Love [2]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Asexual Character, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Other, Pansexual Character, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2019-01-01 02:33:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12146760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzipenguin/pseuds/fuzipenguin
Summary: Sideswipe finally gets to ride the Party Ambulance. Ratchet learns more about his burgeoning relationship with the twins





	Staycation

            “Oh frag, ohfrag _yes_ , please, come _on_ …!”

            Ratchet reached up a hand, dipped his thumb in the mess of fluids around Sideswipe’s valve, and then firmly rubbed the pad of his digit over Sideswipe’s rapidly blinking anterior node.

            Sideswipe threw back his head and cried out wordlessly, grinding against Ratchet’s thumb in little jerks of his hips. Ratchet’s spike, buried deep within Sideswipe’s valve, was squeezed pleasantly in the arrhythmic waves of Sideswipe’s overload. Ratchet had already overloaded several moments before, but the snug warmth wrapped around his spike was keeping him half-hard, and the spasmodic ripples was giving him ideas about his next climax.

            Ratchet’d already had four; he shouldn’t be greedy. But… Sideswipe was damn tempting and so far hadn’t shown any signs of stopping.

            With a finally little shimmy of his hips, Sideswipe collapsed forward onto Ratchet’s chest. He nuzzled the side of Ratchet’s throat, pelvis grinding slowly backwards and forwards as if enjoying the last little sparks of charge from his internal nodes.

            “Mmmm...” Sideswipe moaned, practically radiating satisfaction. “The rumors don’t do you justice.”

            “Thank you. Neither did your claims,” Ratchet replied, sliding his hand out from under Sideswipe’s bulk before any lines got pinched. He grabbed hold of Sideswipe’s waist, fingers splayed out over the other mech’s lower back.

            Sideswipe jerked up, blinking down at Ratchet. “What do you mean?” he asked, looking offended. “It certainly _sounded_ like you were having a good time!”

            “He means you’re better than he expected,” a voice off in the corner said distractedly.

            Both Sideswipe and Ratchet turned their heads to look at Sunstreaker, whose face was nearly eclipsed by the drawing pad he had perched on his raised up knees. True to _his_ claims, he had sat quietly in his chair and sketched the entire time Sideswipe and Ratchet had been on the bed. Ratchet had snuck glances at him from time to time in the beginning, but Sunstreaker had never once looked at them with interest.

            Well, other than interest in capturing their expressions or poses for his art.

            Based on their previous conversations, he had been blindsided by Sunstreaker’s ask to be present (although not to participate) for Sideswipe and Ratchet’s interface. Assuming the request was due to a protective urge of Sunstreaker’s, Ratchet had bemusedly agreed.

            Sideswipe must have sensed Ratchet’s confusion. When Sunstreaker wasn’t looking, Sideswipe had taken Ratchet aside and explained that Sunstreaker wanted to observe for purely artistic reasons. Apparently Sunstreaker had tried once before, but Sideswipe’s interfacing partner at the time had just continually tried to coax Sunstreaker to join them.

            Until Ratchet, Sunstreaker had never again made the request. He hadn’t felt secure enough to do so, always worried he would be questioned, or stared at.

            It warmed Ratchet’s spark that Sunstreaker trusted Ratchet to not do any of those things.

            “Yes, that’s it exactly,” Ratchet hurried to say, feeling Sideswipe starting to tense. Almost immediately, Sideswipe melted back down with a smug smile.

            “Ok, then. Good,” he said with a little nod. He bounced his hips and squeezed his internal calipers, making Ratchet clutch harder at the other mech’s hips. “Wanna go again?”

            Ratchet was about to speak an eager affirmative when his HUD prompted him with a low fuel alert.

            “I would love to. But I should probably get some energon in me first,” Ratchet sighed, firmly telling his interface array to heel.

            Sideswipe pouted briefly and then rose up off Ratchet’s spike, throwing his leg over Ratchet’s legs and plopping down onto his aft. “Yeah, ok. Better to have you fueled up; I’m still good to go for several more joors yet.”

            Joors? Well, damn. Looked like Ratchet wouldn’t be walking normally tomorrow. Not that that was a bad thing, oh no.

            “Would you like any fuel?” Ratchet asked, pushing himself upright. Several of his joints creaked ominously, and Sideswipe stared wide-opticked at him.

            “Not yet… slag, did I break you?” Sideswipe asked, warily watching Ratchet slide to the edge of the bed and stand. Ratchet stretched his arms over his head and turned one way and then the other before walking over to his energon dispenser.

            “Nope. Gonna take a lot more than you to break me, kid,” Ratchet shot back, winking over his shoulder. “These struts are quite a ways off from factory newness.”

            Sideswipe relaxed fractionally and also stood, slowly ambling off in his brother’s direction. “Ok. I’ll take your word for it; you’re pretty tough stuff. Still… rest a bit, I’ll go bug Sunny.”

            “Don’t you dare come near me without cleaning up first,” Sunstreaker mumbled, stopping Sideswipe in his tracks. Sideswipe looked down at himself and then around the room, searching for something to wipe himself down with.

            Ratchet dipped a hand into a subspace pocket and withdrew a packet of cleaning wipes. He whistled, gaining Sideswipe’s attention, and tossed them at the frontliner.

            “Ooh, thanks, Ratch,” Sideswipe chirped, digging into the container and pulling out two damp cloths. While Ratchet’s ancient machine glacially dripped out fuel, Sideswipe cleaned away the recent evidence of their exertions and closed his panels. He dropped the crumpled up wad of wipes on the floor like the sparkling Ratchet had always suspected Sideswipe was and practically skipped over to his brother.

            “Can I see?” Sideswipe asked excitedly, propping a hip on the chair’s armest and leaning down into his twin’s space.

            “They’re just sketches,” Sunstreaker protested, trying to tilt the pad away from Sideswipe’s scrutiny. He reached up and repeatedly shoved at his brother’s shoulder, but Sideswipe wasn’t to be deterred. They tussled for several moments until Sideswipe pushed off from the armrest to land in Sunstreaker’s lap, chortling happily at ‘winning’.

            “Your sketches are better than 99% of anyone else’s work,” Sideswipe proclaimed, finally snatching the pad away from his twin. He paged through the device, pedes kicking fitfully over the side of the armrest. “Oooh, that one’s hot!”

            Sunstreaker huffed and shot Ratchet a pleading look. Ratchet merely shook his head, grinning. Sunstreaker wasn’t truly upset; in actuality, he seemed pleased by Sideswipe’s praise.

            “Any of these full projects?” Sideswipe asked, pausing on certain images and nodding in admiration.

            “A few,” Sunstreaker admitted, reaching up and tapping on the screen a few times.

            “Mm, nice!” Sideswipe said, nodding approvingly at Sunstreaker’s choices. “I’m glad to have been of assistance.”

            “Like it was a chore,” Sunstreaker scoffed in reply.  

            Sideswipe looked up, optics seeking and immediately finding Ratchet. His lips curved up at the corners and Ratchet felt his interface array warm once more at the heated look. “Not in the slightest. Can Ratchet see?”

            “No!” Sunstreaker exclaimed, yanking the data pad out of Sideswipe’s hands and tucking it down between his thigh and the armrest. He guiltily looked up at Ratchet and then back down at Sideswipe’s lap. “Not yet, anyway,” Sunstreaker mumbled.

            “That’s fine, Sunny,” Ratchet hurried to say reassuringly. It would have been nice to see the art he had been a subject of, but Ratchet suspected that too required a certain level of trust. “Whatever and whenever you’re ready. Cube?”        

            Sunstreaker shook his head and Ratchet shrugged, deciding to drink both. Sideswipe seemed to have boundless energy; two cubes would definitely get Ratchet through the next few joors. He sat on the edge of the bed and proceeded to sip his way through the first container, savoring the rush of energy once the liquid hit his tanks.

            Meanwhile, Sideswipe twisted around in Sunstreaker’s lap, throwing his arms around his brother’s neck.

            “It seems like you got everything you needed. Did you want to stay longer?” Sideswipe inquired.

            Sunstreaker raised an orbital ridge and looked at his brother. “Do _you_ want me to stay longer?”

            “I wouldn’t mind. I like you watching me, you know that,” Sideswipe replied, one of his hands sliding down to pat Sunstreaker on his chest plate.

            Sunstreaker glanced over at Ratchet before turning his attention back to his twin and lowering his voice. Ratchet averted his gaze and studied the wall, doing his best not to eavesdrop. No matter how much trust the twins had in him, this sounded like the beginnings of a private conversation.

            “Even when I’m just watching for anatomy purposes?” Sunstreaker asked. He lowered his head, denta worrying his lip.

            “Even then,” Sideswipe said reassuringly, leaning forward and squeezing his arms tight about Sunstreaker’s shoulders. “Hey… kiss?”

            Out of the corner of his optic, Ratchet watched Sideswipe nuzzle Sunstreaker’s cheek. Sunstreaker huffed quietly and then turned his head, meeting Sideswipe’s lips. It was a brief peck, one which Sideswipe was apparently unhappy with. He reached up and cupped the side of Sunstreaker’s face, holding him still. Sideswipe pressed forward, engine flipping over with a quiet purr that Ratchet could hear across the room.

            The second kiss was deeper, lasted longer, yet still remained chaste. Ratchet didn’t feel his spike stir; his spark gave an odd clench instead. This quiet evidence of their love was yet another way they trusted Ratchet; neither of them were very prone to public displays of affection.

            Sideswipe pulled back slightly, only to tip his head and rest his forehelm against his twin’s.

            “Stay. Or go. Whichever makes you comfortable, I’m ok with,” Sideswipe said, staring deeply into Sunstreaker’s optics.

            Sunstreaker frowned and gently tilted his head back and away from Sideswipe to look across the room.

            “Ratchet?”

            Swallowing his mouthful of fuel, Ratchet gestured in Sideswipe’s direction. “What he said. I’ll respect your decision either way.”

            Sunstreaker blinked at him warily as if he didn’t quite believe Ratchet but nodded after a moment. He then returned his attention to Sideswipe.

            “I think… I’m gonna… go?” Sunstreaker ventured as if asking permission. “I want to get started on one of the paintings.”

            “Ok,” Sideswipe said, acquiescing easily. He placed a quick kiss on Sunstreaker’s cheek and then pushed himself out of his brother’s lap. “I’ll come home right after we’re done.”

            “No, you won’t,” Sunstreaker countered, pulling out his data pad from the side of the chair and tucking it into subspace. He took the hand that Sideswipe offered and stood. “You’ll go the washrack first.”

            Sideswipe smiled in fond exasperation. “I’ll go to the washrack first,” he repeated in confirmation. “Love you. Stay out of trouble.”

            Sunstreaker paused a few steps away, glancing at Ratchet before looking back over his shoulder. “Mm. Sides…?”

            The red warrior cocked his head to the side as if listening to something over comms. Or more likely their bond, Ratchet thought. After a moment, Sideswipe’s smile softened.

            “Sounds great, bro. See you soon, ok?”

            Sunstreaker gave a brief nod to both Sideswipe and Ratchet and then left. Ratchet watched him go, sipping on the last quarter of his second cube. When he glanced back to Sideswipe it was to see the frontliner stalking towards him with heat in his optics.

            “What did he ask you?” Ratchet asked curiously. Sunstreaker had seemed uncomfortable at the end there, and Ratchet couldn’t help but think he had been the cause.

            “Sunstreaker? Oh, two things actually. He wanted some point of view images – me looking down at you while you suck me off or I frag you – you ok with that?” Sideswipe asked, grabbing hold of Ratchet’s cube and pulling it from Ratchet’s suddenly lax grip.

            “Uh… yes, that sounds fine,” Ratchet replied faintly, watching Sideswipe throw back the energon. His throat flexed as he swallowed, making Ratchet’s array twinge with heady interest. “… what was the second thing?”

            “Huh?” Sideswipe moved forward, panel cover sliding aside. His red and black spike was already halfway pressurized as he wrapped a hand around it and slowly stroked. “Oh, he wanted to merge with me when I got back. He didn’t say it, but I’m sure he wants to make sure you didn’t steal my spark away or some dross like that.”

            Halfway to sliding off the edge of the berth, Ratchet blinked and raised an orbital ridge. “Could anyone ever steal your spark away from your brother?”

            Sideswipe snorted and shook his head. “Doubt it. Like ya a lot, Ratch, but you’re not Sunny. And he knows that, but he gets insecure about the whole ‘not wanting to frag’ thing sometimes. Idiot.”

            Ratchet nodded. “No, I completely understand.” He slid the rest of the way off the bed, landing on his knees. They creaked, making Sideswipe twitch in response, but he didn’t say anything. “It’s not as if I’m about to ask you both to bond with me.”

            “Hey… we’d be awesome bondmates!” Sideswipe proclaimed with a grin. It faded from his face pretty fast however, when Ratchet shuffled closer, hands sliding up Sideswipe’s thighs with a raspy chime of metal. Sideswipe’s spike twitched as Ratchet’s touch grew closer.

            “I’m sure you would; you have plenty of experience of that with each other. But I honestly just want you for this,” Ratchet replied teasingly, winking one optic as his right hand encircled the base of Sideswipe’s spike and squeezed. He directed the spike towards his mouth, lips parting in anticipation.

            “Wait a sec.” Sideswipe reached out to place a finger over Ratchet’s lips. Ratchet froze, staring up at Sideswipe in confusion and worry. Had Ratchet said something untoward?

            “We’re a matched set, remember? You can’t just have me without Sunny too,” Sideswipe elaborated. Except it didn’t make things any clearer.

            “What? I thought Sunstreaker…” Ratchet started and then trailed off when Sideswipe waved his hand through the air.

            “No, of course, you’re right; you wouldn’t be doing this with Sunny,” Sideswipe said, gesturing to his groin. “But he’d like to spend time with you, be close with you, even if he’d never ask. So how do you feel about cuddles?” Sideswipe offered, gaze strangely intense.

            Ratchet recalled that clinging warmth he had woken up to in MedBay after their harrowing adventure on Cybertron. Sunstreaker had latched onto him so tightly. How many other mechs could Sunstreaker do that with?

            And while Ratchet was greatly enjoying his time spent with Sideswipe, Ratchet was old enough to appreciate the quiet moments of just being close to someone else. That was something he could easily provide to Sunstreaker.

            “I love cuddles,” Ratchet said in answer, watching Sideswipe’s shoulders subtly relax. “I’ll make an effort to stop by more, how does that sound?”

            Sideswipe smiled again, an expression nearly as adoring as the one he had given Sunstreaker earlier. Ratchet’s spark did that funny little twitch again at the sight.

            “It sounds perfect.”

 

~ End


End file.
